This morning I’m thinking about what has for me always been the best breakfast in the world: A fresh, very lightly toasted pumpernickel bagel with a generous schmear of cream cheese, thinly sliced crescents of red onion, capers and smoked lox. A thin slice of tomato is optional—but if you opt for it, consider making it a seasonal addition; a tasteless trucked-in tomato simply diminishes the sandwich.

The components are listed in the order above because to be the best breakfast int the world, construction is vitally important. It’s my version of James Bond’s “shaken, not stirred.”

The schmear of cream cheese must be applied to each side of the sliced, toasted bagel. On one side, the crescents of red onion are place on top of the cream cheese; the capers are similarly placed on the other side. At this point, you’re holding the fork that you’ve reasonably used to efficiently drain the brine from the capers as you lifted them from the jar—take its heel and gently press the onions and the capers into the cream cheese. This ensures the optimum stability of the sandwich. Next, lay thin slices of the smoked salmon on the onion side—it has been my experience that the capers stick to the cream cheese more effectively than the red onions—so this is the side you’ll want to pick up and place atop the the lox. Note: if you opt for the tomato slice, gently press it onto the the onion side—and be aware you’ll be introducing a slick instability to the construction. Using an eight-inch chef’s knife, cut the assembled bagel in two.

Equally important: prior to assembly of the bagel, you have strong, French roast coffee brewing. You’ll want to pour it into a mug and—also critical—drink it black. Cream and sugar are, after all, for pussies—capice? The mug guarantees the right amount of coffee-delivery in relationship to the size of the assembled bagel. The strength of the black coffee compliments the smoked lox and richness of the pumpernickel. Ensure that there is enough coffee for two full mugs—one as you eat your bagel and and second for, well, the afterglow.

This, ladies and gentleman, is a proper breakfast—a Breakfast Of The Gods. At least it is if done right, which means farmers market red onion, a bagel from the best local shop you can find and a high-end smoked lox. I favor Crosse & Blackwell Non-Pareil Capers and old-school Philadelphia Cream Cheese.

Just how good is this thing? Well, know this: When I am finally rounded-up by Trump’s secret police and sentenced to death by firing squad, this is the breakfast I will order. If I knew I was about to give a Ted Talk and was utterly unprepared, this is what I’d first consume. If I found myself leading the last remnants of humanity into the final battle against invading intergalactic aliens, this what I’d whip up before hand. Because this is, hands-down, The Best Goddamn Breakfast In The Goddamn World.

I’m not taking questions because in this case there can be no serious ones.